


of matters to the heart

by loubear



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 21:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loubear/pseuds/loubear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry, a lonely college student, starts working at the college's art gallery where he meets a photographer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	of matters to the heart

The art gallery was the only place Harry felt comfortable. It was his first year at the art institute and so far he hadn’t met anyone that he felt like he could open to and become good friends with. There were a lot of acquaintances and people that invited him to parties, sure, but none of them seemed like they would make good friends. He could feel himself slipping into some sort of sadness that he hadn’t felt before and it made him uncomfortable. But all of that seemed to wash away whenever he was in the gallery. He could sit and look at the art for as long as he wanted to without being bothered, without needing to talk to someone about who made out with who at the party that he didn’t attend. The art didn’t want to know how he was, who he thought was cute. He felt comfortable when he was there and it was the only place where he felt like that.

A few weeks after Harry started going to the art gallery regularly, he noticed a posting near the front entrance that advertised a job opening. It wasn’t much, just setting up exhibits for shows, but Harry jumped at the opportunity and applied right away. No one had applied yet, apparently, seeing as all Harry had to do was go up to the front desk and ask about the job to get hired. He was shocked and elated by what just happened and he instantly said yes because jobs on campus didn’t stay open very long and this was perfect for him. He could be alone with the art and he was going to be getting paid for it. He couldn’t think of a better job, really.

It was only Tuesday afternoon and he was already scheduled to work that Friday but that wasn’t soon enough for him so, being the easily excitable person that he was, Harry asked if he could start the next day. He had heard of a huge photography show coming up and he wanted a chance to get to look at all of the photos before the gallery would be swamped with people discussing the composition of the photos, what the f-stop was, the development process, all of the things that Harry cared when looking at things from a technical aspect, but not from an emotional viewpoint. Those weren’t things he wanted to discuss with strangers. In class, sure. He could go on for days about the composition of a piece, but not here., no. The gallery was a time for peace, quiet, and letting his emotions rise to the surface.

The week seemed to drag on but Friday finally came. Jumping out of bed, Harry pulled on a pair of black skinny jeans as well as a black button-up shirt, ran his fingers through his hair, and ran out the door. Arriving half an hour early, Harry waited around until someone told him what to do. Waiting around was really the only thing Harry did that day, and that’s all he kept doing for the next couple of weeks. He didn’t mind it, though. When he wasn’t busy hanging up art, he was allowed to walk around the gallery and keep an eye on things. It was empty most days, which allowed time for sitting and looking at the art for extended periods of time, something that Harry loved to do.

Finally it was time to switch out exhibits in preparation for a new photography exhibit and Harry was meant to help set up the gallery before the opening show. While he was excited about having things to do, he wanted to sit down and look at all of the art for one last time before it left. It had been weeks since he started and he still wanted to look at the pieces of art that he had seen dozens of times before. Carefully taking the art down, he glimpsed at it one last time and wished that he could jump into any of them for a short while, to see the world inside of the painting, to see things from a different point of view for a while, but he couldn’t do that. 

Letting out a long sigh, Harry turned around and started walking back towards the entrance of the gallery. For the first time, Harry needed out of there, even if it was for just a little while. Taking down the pieces he loved the most felt like he was getting rid of his best friends and it was overwhelming him more than he would ever admit. As he turned the corner, he noticed that there was a boy kneeling on the floor sorting through photographs. Walking towards him, Harry kneeled down next to him, careful not to step on any of the photos that were splayed out on the floor around him. “Hey, need any help,” he asked quietly so he wouldn’t startle him.

“That’d be lovely,” a soft voice responds. The boy looks up, tossing his head to the side lightly so that his hair isn’t in his face. “Got a lot to do before the show tonight,” he adds. His eyes sparkle in the bright lights of the gallery and Harry can feel his face getting hot. He stumbles with his words for a moment before getting something coherent out. “Yeah, I bet. You’ve got a lot of stuff here,” Harry says, mumbling to the point where it causes the other boy to look at him oddly. Keeping his head down so that his curly hair covers his face, Harry occasionally looks up to watch the boy work, to watch him smile while he hangs up his photographs. “These are really nice. You’re really good,” Harry said, breaking the silence. His voice seems to ring out through the silent gallery, making the low hum of the lights fade and the buzzing in Harry’s ears to leave. He doesn’t remember the last time he was so nervous around someone but there’s something about this boy, something that he needs, but he isn’t sure what it is.

“You think so? I think they’re all a bit mediocre, but thanks. The name’s Louis, by the way,” the boy replied, holding out his hand for Harry to shake it. That’s when Harry finally looks up again, meeting the boy’s gaze with his own and he smiles. “I’m Harry. Lovely to meet you, Louis,” he responds cheerfully. Harry, not pulling his hand back immediately, lingers a bit too long which causes Louis to slowly pulls his hand back. Harry’s fingers trailed against Louis’ skin as he drew his hand back and Harry immediately pulled his hand away from him and put his head down again. 

Harry was always one to fall in love fast. He was the type of person that fell in love with people he met in coffee shops, on the bus, anywhere and everywhere. If they smiled at him there was a good chance that Harry fell in love with them briefly even if he didn’t know their name. This time it wasn’t any different. Harry’s heart felt trapped in his chest, like a caged bird. His stomach started doing flips and he felt so warm, so incredibly warm. It felt like there was a small flame inside of him warming him from the inside out but it was a comfortable heat. It felt safe. It felt like home.

The two boys worked in silence until all of the photos were hung up. Louis smiled at Harry and extended his hand once more. “Thanks. It would have taken me forever to do this by myself,” Louis said. His voice seemed to draw Harry and he couldn’t seem to comprehend the words for a few moments. All he could focus on was how delicate his voice was and the sincerity in his tone. “Oh, no problem. It was my pleasure,” Harry replied, taking Louis’ hand in his and shaking it again, this time making sure he didn’t linger for an awkward length of time. “You coming to the show tonight,” Louis asked inquisitively as he bent down to pack up his things. Harry shook his head, his hair bouncing around as he did so. “Yeah. See you there?” Louis stood up and shook his head in response. “Yeah. You’ll see me there,” Louis said as he bit his lip. 

With that, Louis turned around and headed for the entrance, leaving Harry there all alone. Harry didn’t leave that spot until Louis disappeared around the corner. There was finally someone that existed outside of the gallery that Harry wanted to get to know, to study and appreciate as if they were a piece of art and, even though Harry had just met Louis, he knew there was something special about him. Something that Harry thought he could only find in the art gallery. A smile slowly spread across Harry’s face. “Maybe everyone here isn’t that bad,” he muttered to himself.


End file.
